Ella Finds Love Again (Little Valley 3)

by Jerry S. Eicher

  His eyes blinked and fixed on her face. He pondered her for a long moment, and then recognition slowly came.

  “You are Ella Yoder,” he said, his voice rasping in the still room.

  Behind her Ella heard movement at the bedroom door and then silence. Apparently Ivan and Susanna had noticed the conversation and decided to leave them alone for a moment.

  “Yah,” she whispered.

  “You lost that Aden awhile back, didn’t you? Before you could marry him?”

  She nodded, afraid to trust her voice.

  “Then you have also suffered—and so young,” he said, nodding slowly, his eyes returning to the face on the bed. “My heart can never be comforted though…not in this world. It is for you young people that life goes on. Do you think I will see her again soon?”

  “Yes,” Ella said, her voice trembling.

  “I loved her,” he whispered, barely able to say the words, struggling to gather himself. There followed moments of silence. No words were necessary. Then the old man spoke. “We must prepare her for the ground—as Da Hah has now taken her. I am too weak for such a thing, but Susanna will help you. And the people must be told.”

  “There’s quite a storm outside,” Ella said. “But Ivan will notify people in the morning. It may be that long before anyone can get out anyway.”

  “Yah,” he said with a slow nod. “So it is. But Da Hah knows what He’s doing.”

  Ella took her hand from his shoulder, ready to go.

  He spoke again. “The clock must be stopped. Can you do that?”

  “I can,” Ella said. “Susanna will also know the time.”

  He nodded, his eyes steady on his wife’s face.

  Ella left him, stepping back into the bright glow of the living room and finding Ivan gone.

  “He’s gone back to check on the girls,” Susanna said, answering the question in Ella’s eyes.

  “Perhaps I should stay with them, and Ivan should remain here,” Ella said. “Oh, and your daett wants the clock stopped.”

  Susanna raised her eyes toward the tall old clock in the corner.

  Ella looked. The big pendulum was no longer swinging.

  “I stopped it while you were with him. Thank you for being there for him.”

  “He needed someone to talk to.”

  “And it was good that it was you, Ella. It’s hard to talk with your children at times like these. He loved Mamm a lot.”

  “I could see that,” Ella said. She noticed that Susanna had started a fire in the woodstove. A tub of water sat on the stove, steam already rising from it.

  “I don’t think I need help,” Susanna said, following Ella’s glance. “But perhaps you could stay with Daett. I don’t want him alone or being in there when I clean Mamm.”

  Ella nodded and returned to the bedroom. She took the old man’s arm gently.

  “Why don’t you come out to the living room with me while Susanna tends to the washing?”

  He nodded and followed her without resistance.

  Ella held on to his arm, wondering at the frailness of his body. She didn’t remember him looking like this at last Sunday’s preaching service. But perhaps she hadn’t noticed. Did one grow older suddenly, in one night, when the loss was so great to bear? Ella paused, helping him into a rocker. She pulled out a chair from the kitchen table and sat down beside him.

  He glanced at Susanna once as she went past with a bowl of water, a towel, and a washcloth draped over her arm. Then his eyes found the clock in the corner, and he seemed satisfied. His body sagged in the rocker.

  “She was so beautiful,” his hoarse voice whispered. “She came up for cousin Fred’s wedding as one of the table waiters with some other boy I don’t even remember anymore. Now she’s crossed over before I have. It’s because she was so much better than me.”

  After a few minutes of silence, save for the gentle creak of the rocker, the front door opened, mounds of snow spilling onto the hardwood floor. Ivan entered, bending over to brush the snow with his gloved hands, throwing it outside before carefully shutting the door.

  “The storm’s worse,” he said, taking his heavy coat off. “The girls are all asleep, but, Ella, do you think you could stay with them for the night while I stay here with Daett?”

  “Of course.” Ella rose from her chair and pulled on her coat and shawl.

  “You want me to walk over with you?” Ivan asked, his eyes searching her face.

  Ella shook her head and offered a weary smile.

  “I’m sure you can make it,” Ivan said, his hand on the doorknob. “The path is still there.”

  Ella slipped her boots back on, and Ivan held the door open for her. With a quick glance at his face, she stepped out onto the porch. The wildness of the storm nearly overwhelmed her as Ivan pushed the door shut.

  With a burst of energy she launched out, finding remnants of the path still clear enough to make her way, just as Ivan had said. Her breath almost gone, she reached the house and jerked the front door open. Light flickered across the floor from the kerosene lamp Ivan had left on the desk.

  Ella shook off her coat at the front door, took her boots off, and then grabbed the lamp. She opened the bedroom door on the main floor and checked on baby Barbara. Then she took the lamp upstairs to check on the girls. Seeing they were okay, she glanced into another doorway—a guest room. She moved inside, took off her outer garments, and wearily crawled into the bed.

  The night had been so much more than Ella had expected. But it was good and right that she was here. She drifted to sleep with the thought that surely Da Hah had known she would be needed here tonight.

  Six

  When Ella awoke, the darkness was hanging heavily outside the bedroom window. Only the morning chill spoke of the soon breaking dawn. For a long moment she lay there, not remembering where she was. As the memory of the previous night returned, panic surged through her. The girls! What will my early-morning presence in the house mean to the girls? Always before she’d told them an overnight stay wasn’t possible. Now, through no fault of her own, it suddenly had become possible. What would she tell them when they asked why she was there? And what would she say when they asked if she could stay another night…perhaps even tonight if the storm didn’t let up?

  What good would it do to think of that now? No good at all, she decided. She wearily got out of bed and searched in the unfamiliar dresser drawer, finding matches where she expected them. She lit the kerosene lamp. With the wick turned as low as possible, she dressed. There was no choice but to wear the clothes from yesterday. With the storm apparently ended outside, she could surely go home. She would come back tomorrow for the funeral. Another night here was out of the question.

  Ella left the lamp in the bedroom, keeping the door ajar to light the hall. She opened the girls’ bedroom door. They slept as she had left them, tight under the covers with only their heads sticking out. She wanted to kiss them and take them into her arms, but she held back. They would awaken soon anyway.

  Was it possible she could yet escape without them knowing she was still here? Desperation filled her—a desire to drive off in her buggy before the girls knew. That would prevent the questions over why she was there and why it couldn’t happen again.

  Maybe someday she would stay. Yes, she could marry Ivan, regardless of how she felt, and it would help the girls’ situation. Ella sucked in her breath so loudly at the thought that she glanced at the girls. Thankfully they still breathed deeply, lost in slumber. She knew Ivan would be agreeable to marriage, whatever her terms. There was little question there.

  But she needed more time. She must allow her heart to follow with its feelings. She could still have the girls during the week, and Ivan could continue to wait a few more months for a wife. They would soon enough have the rest of their lives to spend together. And her love for the girls would continue to grow. There would be no more suppers here at Ivan’s house before then, of that she was determined.

  Ella retrieved th
e kerosene lamp from across the hall and made her way downstairs. A quick glance through the window seemed to show a light in the barn. She continued to Ivan’s room and quickly checked on baby Barbara. Then she moved back into the kitchen, left the lamp on the table, and returned to the living room window.

  The sky had just the slightest hint of light on the horizon. The cloud cover was still heavy, but snow was no longer falling. When the barn door opened, a dim glow of light spilled onto the snow, revealing Ivan’s form in the doorway.

  He must be staring out toward the road, Ella thought. Has he been able to get out and spread the news of his mamm’s passing already? She looked down. There were no footprints in the snow. No path shoveled to the road. The road itself still looked closed. So though he hadn’t been out yet, he would surely leave soon. Necessity demanded it.

  She would fix breakfast for the girls, and Ivan could eat over at the dawdy haus. This might keep the girls from further associating the two of them together. That decided, there really was no rush. This was a Sunday morning, and the girls would likely sleep for some time. She might as well make herself useful in some way, and helping with the milking seemed the most obvious choice. Since the snowstorm meant no one else knew about the death in the family, the neighbors weren’t here to take over the duties of the house and farm.

  What was she to wear? She certainly couldn’t milk in her best dress. Ella paced the floor, thinking, watching the road for the headlights of county snowplows that would open the roads so Ivan could get out. The front yard will need clearing for the funeral, she thought. When help finally comes there will certainly be plenty to do, the teams of horses pulling flip shovels, tossing and pushing snow into high banks.

  But for now she needed to help with the milking. First she had to find a chore dress. Perhaps there would be one in Ivan’s bedroom. He would not likely have disposed of Lois’s dresses. The thought of going through the closet in Ivan’s room left her cold, but clothes were clothes, whoever had worn them in the past. She needed to be practical about this. Wasn’t she already trying to be practical about her marriage plans? Wearing Lois’s dress might help things along.

  Ella retrieved the lamp from the kitchen and cautiously opened the bedroom door. The bedcovers were still thrown on the floor, and baby clothing was strewn around. Baby Barbara slept soundly in the crib. The man certainly could use a wife. But what would Ivan think if he knew she was in here? And wearing one of Lois’s dresses was not something that could be hidden when she arrived in the barn.

  Lois had been Ivan’s wife—unlike what Ella had been to Aden. What would Ivan think about that? The difference between them was vast. Ella carefully set the kerosene lamp on a dresser. When she opened the closet door, the baby stirred. Ella froze until the even breathing started again. As she expected, one side of the closet still held dresses. Are they the right size? Ella couldn’t remember exactly how Lois had looked, but she reached for a dress. A dark blue one looked worn enough for her purposes, and she took it off the rack.

  Holding the dress up against her side, there seemed no reason the dress shouldn’t fit. Perhaps a little long, but that wouldn’t matter for chores. Now where to change? Ella glanced around. There was no way she could undress in here. She made a quick dash upstairs to the spare room, changed, and then came back down again.

  Ella left the kerosene lamp burning in the living room in case the girls should awaken before she came back. A search in the closet by the front door revealed an old coat and boots, no doubt the ones Lois used to wear. Ivan apparently had never gotten rid of any of his wife’s things.

  A picture of Ivan’s face rose before her. The distress in it, the words he had spoken to her in anguish, “I loved Lois too much. And this is why Da Hah has taken her from me.”

  Yet Da Hah had also taken Aden, and she loved him just as much. Perhaps that’s why they were safe together, she and Ivan. Ella felt a touch of her old bitterness rising as she stood in the cold mudroom. What a messed-up world, but there was one small comfort. At least she would never be able to love Ivan as much as she had loved Aden.

  With coat and boots on, Ella opened the front door, kicking a small drift of snow away with her foot and finding the steps already cleaned. Ivan must have made another round through the path this morning after the snow stopped. At the junction toward the barn, Ella expected to follow only footsteps, but she found a freshly shoveled path. Gratefully she made her way to the barn door.

  For a moment she paused to look toward the east. Gray clouds still hung heavy on the horizon, but she could see small patches of dark blue here and there. The sun would soon be up, and the snowfall obviously was over.

  The smell of the barn greeted her as she opened the door and stepped inside. The scene was familiar, with the line of cows tied to stanchions. Ivan, sitting on a three-legged stool, had his back turned toward her and one knee was propped against a cow’s leg. He must have heard her but likely thought she was Susanna.

  “I told you I could handle the chores.”

  “It’s me,” Ella said. “I can help.”

  Ivan jerked his head up, scraping it on the cow’s belly. The animal lurched forward. Only his knee held the cow’s leg back long enough for him to snatch the half-filled bucket of milk to safety.

  Ella laughed.

  And Ivan turned red.

  “That’s not nice,” Ivan said. “I wasn’t expectin’ you.”

  “I wasn’t expectin’ to come out, but I thought you could use help. And I hope you don’t mind the dress. It was Lois’s.”

  His eyes swept her figure. “You’re wearing her dress and coat.”

  Yah,” she said. “Is it wrong? If so, I can change back into my own clothes. I only had my good clothes to wear.”

  He swallowed hard, his blue eyes finding her face. “No…” He forced a smile. “That’s as it should be. Are the girls still asleep?”

  “They were when I checked last, and I left the light on in the living room…just in case.”

  He nodded, seeming to approve, and turned back to the cow.

  “Have you let people know yet?” Ella asked.

  He shook his head but didn’t turn around.

  “Let me finish the milkin’ then. And you can go tell them. The undertaker needs to be told.”

  “It’s still early, and the roads aren’t passable.”

  “The people need to be told. And the undertaker can be called from the pay phone. Surely you can reach that far,” she said, surprised at her boldness.

  “Yah,” he said, considering her words. “In this you are right. I guess I was still in my own world of chores and things.”

  “They would have come to help if you had let them know.”

  “The snow just quit, so I couldn’t go before. It passed suddenly, like these storms do.”

  “Were you up all night?” she asked. “You poor man.”

  His back relaxed and he shrugged. “Maybe I got an hour or so in the rocker. Daett was mourning most of the night.”

  “Let me milk the rest of the cows then. I grew up around this.”

  “This one’s almost done.” He got up and pulled the milk pail away from the cow. “There’s only four more to go.”

  “My hands still work,” she said, kneading them to demonstrate and smiling.

  He nodded, giving her the milk bucket.

  Ella emptied it slowly into the strainer while Ivan watched.

  When she finished, he took a deep breath and exhaled. He looked relieved.

  “I know how to milk,” Ella assured him, taking a three-legged stool off the wall and carefully sitting down next to a cow. She began the familiar rhythm of milking a cow by hand. Behind her the barn door opened and shut as Ivan left without further conversation.

  Ella moved her fingers quickly, feeling the power in her hands, her muscles toned over the years.

  “It’s been a long time,” she whispered. “I suppose it will be good to have cows to milk again, and to have a husband whom
I can help with the chores.” She let her thoughts wander as she milked…about being a wife and full-time mamm.

  The cow was out of milk, and it turned its head back to Ella. With a jerk the cow brought its leg forward, and Ella would have lost the milk pail if she hadn’t lunged forward, throwing her weight against the cow’s leg.

  “Easy there!” Ella laughed. “Sorry, bossy. I guess I got lost in my thoughts. You won’t like me now will you? Maybe I can do better next time.” Next time. Will there be a next time? Ella got to her feet and emptied the milk into the strainer. This could be her place in a few months. Her house and barn—if she desired it. “It’s gut,” she whispered, “and right that I love the girls. But if only I could love the man.”

  Seven

  As Ella emptied the last bucket of milk into the strainer, she heard the recognizable rattle of a snowplow on the road. When the milk had run through, she pulled the cloth screen out of the strainer, glancing around for Ivan’s slop bucket. With a flip of her hand she tossed the dripping cloth in that direction. For a moment the cloth caught on the edge and then toppled inside.

  “That’s a good toss,” she said, laughing as she realized she was talking to herself again. Being in the barn and milking the cows had awakened great waves of homesickness that now swept over her. She missed her family. If she were at home, Dora would be here helping her milk, and perhaps even Clara and Monroe. Eli too, though truth be told, he was gone now. Eli, with his stubborn heart, leaving to be near his Englisha girlfriend. The loss hung heavy in the damp air of the barn, and Ella set the milk bucket on the floor as tears formed, evidence to her sore heart.

  Behind her a cow banged against the metal clasp holding her neck, reminding Ella of her present duties. That was gut. Responsibilities were a part of the flow of life, and they lifted a person out of despair and despondency. The cow mooed loudly, causing Ella to jump as she rushed to the front of the stalls to loosen the clasps. With the stanchions open, the cows seemed to know the way out, but they managed to bang their heads against the side boards anyway.